Breathe With Me
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: "It'll pass," Percy said quietly. "You're fine, Charlie. There's plenty of air, your lungs are working. Breathe with me, okay?"


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise. **

**Challenges listed at the bottom. **

**Word Count** \- 2189

**Hogwarts Assignment 6** \- Psychiatry - A Character returning home after being gone for years.

**Warnings For:** Offscreen character death / grief / panic attacks and anxiety.

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**Breathe With Me **

* * *

Charlie arrived at the Burrow with little fanfare. He slipped inside the old, rickety house and took a moment to just… be. It had been years since he'd been home. The kitchen was almost exactly the same as it had been the last time he'd been here.

Then again, it was almost exactly the same as it had been when Charlie himself had been a child.

It had been so hard to come home; stupid really. He loved his family and he knew they loved him, but as more time had passed by, it had been harder and harder to just… do it.

The guilt that he hadn't done it sooner, when his father was still…

Charlie swallowed hard against the grief that threatened to choke him. He should have come home sooner.

But then, being here now… it was harder than it should have been.

George entered the kitchen and froze in the doorway. Charlie met his eyes, and he wasn't surprised to see the doubt in his eyes.

"You're here?"

Charlie nodded, but didn't move to hug his brother the way he wanted to; he didn't know if it would be welcome.

"We… didn't know if you'd make it," George said hesitantly, stepping into the kitchen. He walked towards Charlie and pulled him into a hug. Charlie sank into it, the familiar feeling of his brother helping to block the building anxiety. "I'm glad you're here. Mum will be glad you're here."

"And everyone else?"

"Will get over it," George said firmly. "If they know what's good for them. Do you want a bacon sandwich? I'm starving."

Charlie nodded, even though he wasn't really hungry. He hadn't eaten since the day before, and he knew he would need his strength today, even if he didn't feel like eating.

As George fried the bacon off—without magic, which surprised Charlie—Charlie sat down at the table and tapped his fingers against the abused.

"You used to eat sweet snacks at night," Charlie said, the thought irritating him. "Now you prefer savoury?"

"Harry wanted a bacon sandwich," George replied with a shrug. "Easier to just make two than make two different things."

Charlie frowned. "Harry's here?"

"Of course he is," George snorted. "Dad… Dad was like a dad to Harry. More than anyone Harry has ever known in his life, after his parents died. He's as… it hurt him as much as it did any of us."

"Oh. I… I guess I heard about him and Ginny not… and I just thought he'd—"

"They're still friends, and beyond that, Harry and Ron have been best friends since they were eleven. Harry's definitely an honorary Weasley by now."

"And you two are—"

To Charlie's surprise, George blushed and looked away. "It's… complicated. We're friends. But."

"But you wish it was more."

George swallowed hard. "Like I said, it's complicated."

He placed the bacon onto bread and sliced the sandwiches into triangles, handing one of the plates to Charlie. "You should come and sit with us," he said over his shoulder, nodding to the living room. "It's just Harry, Bill and I, so."

Charlie bit his lip and nodded, picking his plate up. "Yeah."

…

Reuniting with his family was… hard. Scary in a way that family should never be. Bill had been the easiest. The two of them visited one another in Romania and Egypt respectively that it hadn't been half as long since he'd seen Bill.

Ginny had been happy to see him, and of course their mother was over the moon that he was home, even if it was such a somber reason.

Percy and Ron were more… difficult. Ron had been stiff if still welcoming, unsure of himself when he'd reached out to hug Charlie in a way that he wasn't with anyone else.

Percy had walked right by him, as though he didn't exist. Charlie didn't call him out on his behaviour, didn't think it was his place, and he didn't tell anyone else. Charlie had half been expecting all of them to treat him that way, so it wasn't too much of a shock.

That didn't stop it hurting.

With every passing moment, he realised he didn't know who his family were anymore. He didn't know what Ginny was doing with her life, or how Ron was finding parenthood. He didn't know what was going on with George and Harry, or what Percy was doing now.

It was strange, to feel like a stranger in his old home, with people he shared blood with.

Standing in his old bedroom, straightening his royal blue robes, Charlie regarded himself in the mirror. He looked… old. Bill snorted at him, and when he turned around, it was to see his older brother watching him with amusement.

"Feeling your age, Charlie-Boy?"

"Just remember, Billy, I'll never be as old as you are."

"Amateur reply, you always say that," Bill said, grinning. He sobered quickly though, checking his watch. "We should go downstairs. I don't want Mum being the first one down there."

Charlie nodded. "Yeah. I…"

"Hey," Bill said, gripping Charlie's shoulder. "You're doing fine, okay?"

Charlie nodded again.

…

The funeral was as awful as any funeral, and then a thousand times worse, because that was his _dad. _All around them, people sat and listened to the wizened old Ministry man talk about Arthur Weasley, and all the brightness he'd brought to the world around him, and they cried.

Charlie could see George leaning into Harry's shoulder, tears pouring down both of their cheeks. Hermione had her face buried against Ron's neck as they held hands. Fleur had stayed at Shell cottage with the children, but Bill sat beside their mother, his arm around her shoulders.

Charlie tried not to notice how much his older brother's hand was trembling as he tried to hold himself together.

And their mum…

It was heartbreaking to watch her cry, her tears darkening the collar of her powder blue dress. His dad had requested that none of them wear black to his funeral, but Charlie couldn't help but wish he hadn't. At least if his mum was wearing black, he wouldn't have to see the evidence of her pain.

Selfish, he knew, but he couldn't help it.

He wanted to go back to Romania, where the sun was likely shining, where the dragons were waiting for him, where he felt… safe.

Where he didn't have to _feel _so much.

…

"You know the rules, Victoire," Fleur reprimanded softly. "No cake until you've eaten something proper."

They were in the kitchen again. Many of the family and guests were in the living room, but there were too many people and Charlie felt like he couldn't breathe so he'd escaped to the relative calmness of the kitchen.

"How are you, Charlie?" Fleur asked, leaning on the table as Victoire wandered off, a sausage roll in her hand.

He shrugged, a helpless gesture because he truly didn't know how he was. He wanted to run, he wanted to hide from the grief and the pain and his family.

"Bill is proud of you," Fleur said softly. "For coming home. He understands how hard it is for you to be here now."

"I couldn't _not _come," Charlie replied. It was true. He'd thought about it, but he'd known that he had no real choice. No matter how much he wished he could have stayed away forever, it had been long past time for him to come home. "I should have come sooner. I could have… I should have seen him. At least… one more time, I should have seen him."

"All Arthur wanted in life, was for his family to be happy. He knew that being in Romania with your dragons was what made you happy," she said, her french accent lilting and gentle.

He knew she was trying to help, but her words didn't make him feel any better. He nodded at the back door and muttered something about getting some air, almost running outside.

Even out there, he still felt trapped, like he wasn't getting enough oxygen. He gasped for breath, his hand pressing on his chest, almost as though he was trying to feel his lungs to make sure they were still working properly.

A strong hand settled on his shoulder made him jump and he turned to see Percy standing beside him, not looking at him.

"It'll pass," Percy said quietly. "You're fine, Charlie. There's plenty of air, your lungs are working. Breathe with me, okay?"

He grabbed Charlie's hand and rested it against his own chest. Charlie fought to breath in the same pattern as Percy, and slowly, the panic receded.

It wasn't gone, but it was lesser. More manageable.

"How did you know what to—"

"Sometimes I just want to disappear," Percy said, his voice still low. "And when that happens, I feel like I can't breathe. I've learnt how to deal with it over the years."

Charlie didn't know what to say, because that was something he should have known, right? He should know that his brother suffered panic attacks? Family knew things like that, right?

"You're the first person in the family I've told," Percy said, as though reading Charlie's mind. When Charlie frowned at him, Percy chuckled. "You said it outloud."

"I. Oh. They don't… know?"

"I didn't want to worry them. They're all… motherhens."

"Oh."

"You can leave, you know? Nobody… nobody will blame you."

Charlie shook his head. "I, uh. I'm going to, uh. Stay for a few days. Spend some time with mum, you know? It'll hurt her more if I just… disappear again."

"She'll understand as well. She was… the most understanding after the war. I hid, you know? I didn't know how to face any of them, and after Fred… I just couldn't deal with the guilt. And she was there when I needed her, and she backed off when I needed her too. So… she'll understand."

"I don't—" Charlie stopped, frustrated. "I shouldn't be… I don't know why I… it's weird isn't it? I shouldn't be scared to come _home. _I don't even know why—"

"Fear isn't rational, Charlie. You faced it anyway, didn't you? You came home when we needed you too."

"You were mad at me."

Percy shook his head. "Not mad. I just… I could see the panic in your face and it… hit home a little too closely. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… it wasn't your fault."

Charlie shook his head. "It's fine. I just… I don't know how to push through it. I'm not as strong as you."

"It's not about being strong. It's… about finding the thing that will help you. I can't do that for you, but you'll find it, Charlie. And… it does get easier."

Charlie nodded, and turned instinctively to the door when he heard his mum calling out for him. The look of relief on her face when she saw he was still there was like a knife in his already wounded heart.

"I'll be in in a minute, Mum," he said, turning back to Percy. His little brother smiled at him.

"You're going to be fine," Percy said. "But, uh. Promise you'll come say goodbye to us all before you leave, okay? Don't just… disappear."

Charlie nodded. "I promise."

…

Later that night, when the guests had gone home, and most of the family were sleeping, Charlie slipped out of the back door into the garden.

He'd left letters on the kitchen table.

His heart was heavy with guilt, his mind replaying the promise he'd made to Percy only hours ago, but he just… he couldn't do it.

He couldn't stay.

"Make sure you write, won't you?"

Startled, Charlie spun around to see his mum at the back door, her dressing gown swamping her. It was clear she'd lost weight, though Charlie hadn't been around to see that.

"Mum, I—"

"I understand, sweetheart," she interrupted. "And if you're ever ready to truly come home, we'll be here, waiting. I love you."

"I love you, Mum. I'm… I'm sorry. I just—"

"I understand," she repeated quietly. "Thank you, for coming home."

He nodded mutely and then dropped his bag onto the grass and moved back towards her, wrapping her in a gentle hug.

"I love you, Mum. So much. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she said, pulling back to pat his cheek. "I have never doubted that, and neither did your father. He knew you loved him, and he only ever wanted you to be happy. Don't you feel guilty, okay? He wouldn't want that and you'd be doing him a disservice."

Charlie tightened his grip on her for a moment before he stepped back. "I'll write."

She nodded. "I look forward to it. Go on, sweetheart, it's okay."

He walked backwards until he reached his bag, and slung it over his shoulder. With a final look at his mum, Charlie Apparated away from the Burrow.

No matter the years he'd been away from home, he wasn't ready to return yet. He didn't know if he ever would be.

* * *

**Written for: **

Showtime - 19. Promise

Scamander - 30. Royal Blue

Marvel - 5. Losing a Parent

Film Festival - 14. Rules

Funfair - Tasty Time Saver - Green Apple and Manchego Slaw - Savoury / Irritated / Kitchen

Monster Mash - Back - 10. Angel Wings - Grief

Galleon - A funeral

Trick or Treat - Trick - Ghost - "Sometimes I just want to disappear."

Masque - Paint - Powder Blue

Pumpkin Toss - Extra Large - Bacon

Sticker Album - Halloween 1 - 4. Spider - Write about a character facing their fear.

365\. 255. Amateur


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